Ambivalently Yours

The Table

It takes just a couple weeks for you to hit your stride with school. Once you get in the groove of attending classes, working on homework, and balancing your social life, things start to look up.

That is, until Professor McCuskey throws a wrench in your well-balanced day-to-day routine.

"We'll have our first formal debate next Friday," she announces in class on a rainy Monday afternoon. "We've done some inpromptu speeches and informal debates, and I think we're ready to take it up a notch. I've already determined the pairings," she says as she sits down at her desk to type on her laptop. "I'm emailing the list now. Once you see who your opponent is, I'd like you and your partner to come up and see me for your topic, and then, if needed, take the last few minutes of class to acquaint yourselves with one another so you know what you're up against." She looks up at everyone expectantly as she shuts her laptop.

You take a deep breath and pull up your email, praying for the best, but expecting the worst. You want to cry when you see his name next to yours. He glares at you from across the room, then makes a grand gesture to signal he's ready to approach the professor's desk with you. You sigh and stand up.

"Professor, with all due respect, I really wish you'd reconsider," you say as you take your place across from her.

She grins at you, chuckling to herself when she sees Rafe Cameron coming up beside you with the deepest of frowns on his face.

"McCuskey, why?" Rafe whines.

"Honestly? I liked the chemistry between you at that first informal debate. Both of you have been unmatched in opponents since then," she answers, pulling out her now-infamous mason jar of debate topics.

"Chemistry? She bulldozed my argument for the entire three minutes," Rafe whines.

"Well, formal debate rules don't allow for that. So you'll get to speak," she says, shaking her jar. "You can pick." She holds the jar out to him.

He gives you a menacing look as he reaches into the jar and pulls out a slip of paper. "Social media has improved human communication," he reads after unfolding the small paper.

She nods, jotting down the topic by your names on her hard copy of the list. "Okay, y/n, he chose the topic, you can choose your side."

You narrow your eyes at Rafe, thinking about which side he would probably pick. He definitely looks like the kind of guy who'd ask for your snap long before he'd ask for your actual phone number (if he even bothered to ask for it at all). "I'll take the side that agrees with the statement," you tell her, taking satisfaction in the way Rafe's expression falls.

"Perfect. Y/n, you will argue that social media has increased communication, and Rafe will argue that it has hurt communication. If you don't need to discuss anything between you, you can go ahead and head out."

You go back to your desk and gather your things, feeling pleased with yourself that you've bested your opponent before you've even taken the podium. You walk out of the classroom with your head held high and a bounce in your step.

"Really, y/n?" Rafe's sarcastic tone floats down the hallway after you.

You turn on your heel to look up at him. "I don't know what you mean."

He rolls his eyes. "I know you chose your side based on the fact that you think I can't argue the negative."

You give him a noncommittal shrug. "A good debater can go either way."

"I will wipe the floor with you next week," he says. "Just wait."

"I look forward to seeing you try." With a smug smile, you turn away from him, laughing to yourself as you hear him huff and puff and mutter obscenities under his breath as he walks out behind you.